


How We Cope

by SquishiChaos



Category: Final Fantasy XV, Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, M/M, Post-Kingdom Hearts III, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2019-12-07 02:41:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18228809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SquishiChaos/pseuds/SquishiChaos
Summary: A lot changes when someone important leaves your life.  Riku and Roxas learn this the hard way while trying to cope with the loss of someone they loved very dearly.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story is NOT Spoiler free. If you haven't played Kingdom Hearts 3 and have no idea what happened during the course of its events, I advise you to please play the game first before reading. Alternatively, if you don't care about spoilers--like me--and are fine reading this fanfic without proper context, then by all means, I will not stop you!
> 
> Without further adieu, please enjoy! :D

Sea salt ice cream fixed everything, or so Roxas believed.   

He believed it back in the Organization, when Xion disappeared and Axel  _felt_  like an enemy.   Believed it in Twilight Town, even when all his closest friends began to forget who he was.   But right now, sitting on the clock tower, watching the sun set in a glory of reds and purples, the salt tasted like tears and the sweetness so unbearably bitter.

Somewhere in town, Axel and Xion were busy— _again_.   Had been since the three of them returned home together.   _Home_ , he thought with a painful scoff,  _is this really **home**? _ Roxas wasn’t sure anymore.   He wasn’t sure about a  _lot_  of things anymore.  In fact, his friends were the only thing he  _was_  sure of, and even that—something he thought irreplaceable and eternal—felt fleeting these days.  

A sigh rustled through his bangs, mingling with the tepid breeze.   He could hear the hustle and bustle from the Bistro down the way, hushed within the din of friends and family watching old black and white movies play for the umpteenth time.  Somewhere down there, Olette, Pence and Hayner were practicing for the next Struggle tournament under Saix’s officious tutelage in between intermittent odd jobs for petty cash.  Seifer and his gang—older and only  _slightly_  more mature—were probably at the sandlot, trying to convince Axel he had no stake in their territory—even though he  _definitely did_ —while Xion and Namine were distracted at the Haunted Mansion, getting all the details finalized for move-in day.  

  _I should be excited_ , he told himself—again.  He’d been doing that a lot lately.  Reminding himself to  _feel_.   It was an odd concept.  After sharing a heart and being a nobody for so long, he thought having his own would make it easier.  That the emotions would just come flooding through him. Joy.  Sadness.  Fear. Exhilaration.  But he still felt so damn  _empty_.  Like a piece of him was missing.  A piece that would always be gone so long as—

“What are you doing up here,  _alone_?”  Roxas couldn’t help a glare at the voice.  

Standing within the shadow of descending twilight, familiar silver hair shone as bright as a full moon over emerald green pools.   With his arms crossed over his chest and eyes narrowed into a curious leer, Riku was probably the  _last_  person he wanted poking into his  _private time_.

“Why do you  _care_?”  

“I don’t,” Riku shrugged, “just figured it’d be impolite not to ask.”

“Since when are  _you_  polite?”  The Silveret rolled his eyes as he made himself comfortable against the wall of the tower.  The distance only amplified all the negative energy grown between them.   “What are you even doing here?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”  

Roxas scowled.  “Annoying me.”   Riku’s smirk was laced with snark.

“Guess again.”   That voice—that expression—brought back a host of equally bittersweet memories atop a wave of nostalgia.   He looked away from those imploring green eyes and let out a huff of exasperation.

“Fine.  Don’t tell me, then.” He shrugged his shoulders and gazed out at Twilight Town.  

With the sun set behind the great expanse of dense buildings, the navy blanket of night hung over them in a world of starless darkness.   A host of blinking lights kept the night alive with the sounds of activity continuing to flourish in the onset of night-life.   If he looked hard enough, he was sure he could catch one of his many friends down there, getting excited for one of the many talented acts ready to provide music and entertainment to the youth of the bustling town.  

“What about you?”  

Without missing a beat—or looking up—Roxas retorted, “what  _about_  me?”

 “Shouldn’t you be down there, helping get everything together for the move?”  He should be. After all the munny they’d all pitched in to buy the Old Mansion and then refurbish it, he should be right there with the rest, divvying up rooms and picking out decorations from any antique store that might sell to teenagers.  Should be earning another cache of munny for the first time their self-constructed renovations fell apart and they needed to rebuild— _again_.  Should be  _excited_  about the prospect of finally sharing a home with his  _family_  and having a real place he could call his  _own_.

_Should be_ —though—was the key phrase.  

“Even the Wayfinders are here to help,” Riku continued after he still remained silent.  Despite all his waning self-control, Roxas couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes.

  _Of course, they are_.   “They’ve got this under control.  I’d just be in their way.”  He could feel that emerald stare piercing into his back.  Heard footsteps soft on solid stone as Riku calmly made his way across the short distance, sitting beside him with an equally quiet rustle.   Bathed in the golden lights off the bustling town below, his pale glow seemed almost ethereal.  Backlit in hues of greens, blues, and reds; Roxas thought—not for the first time—that darkness never stood a chance against a being who was so unfathomably bright.

 Silence settled in an uncomfortably refreshing coat around them.  In the absence of one of Riku’s motivational friendship speeches, there was a calm quiet about their isolation that provided the first bit of peace Roxas had felt in a while.   It’d been quite some time since he’d come here with someone and just basked in the freedom the Tower provided.  Especially now, when all anyone could ever talk about was the Old Mansion.  About how great their lives were now that danger was avoided.  But Roxas knew better.   Had seen enough tragedy in his short life to know that good things  _never_ lasted long.  

A part of him wondered if maybe Riku felt it, too.  If their time spent cloaked in darkened shadows gave them a perception of the world the others couldn’t quite grasp.   Or was it because Riku, too, understood the gravity of the things they’d lost.   Had certainly lost enough in these last few years to accept grief and mourning as a personal routine one eventually got used to.   _That’s a sad thought_ , he realized.  _Is that why he’s been alone so much lately?_

Just as the silence around them became unbearable and that question quaked dangerously in his throat, he was interrupted by Riku looking up at him from beneath his growing bangs.  “Yeah, I wasn’t much help, either.”  

Roxas felt his lips threatening into a grin.  He killed it on an annoyed sigh.  “Well, if you’re gonna hide up here, the least you could do is get us some more ice cream.”  

There was that cocky grin, crooked up at one edge with a playful level of sarcasm. “Oh, is that the price for admission?”

“Would you prefer another death match?”  The Silveret snorted, probably atop a roll of those glowing pools.  

“Why?  So, you can lose again?” It was Roxas’s turn to snort, looking away from the cloak of night to glare at the other boy.

“Hah!” He barked, “ _You_  only won because of the power of darkness!  That’s almost grounds for disqualification in my book!” Riku rolled his eyes again.

“Okay, but you wield  _two_  keyblades.  How is  _that_  fair?”  Roxas shrugged, his grin smug across his lips.

“I don’t write the rules, Pretty Boy.”  As soon as the admonishment left his lips, his eyes went wide and jaw clamped shut in disbelief.   _Why’d I say that?_    He wondered to himself as another awkward silence fell over them.   The Blonde gulped down whatever words might follow that.   Kept nice and still while he waited— _and hoped_ —that Riku might just decide to leave and save them both the hassle.  

But he didn’t.  Just sat there, basking in the turbid silence with his eyes trained ahead on the city. Every now and then, he’d blink against the bright lights winking beneath the blackened night.  In their star-like glow, his silver hair now sat a constant orange hue, peppered every now and again by flashes of electric blue or acid green.   Laughter rang loud and raucous for a moment, and Roxas watched from his periphery as those pale lips slid into an easy grin.

Finally, the Silveret let loose a low sigh and leaned back on his arms, looking up at the sky above.   “So…were you serious?”  He asked, distracted only by the wink of distant stars ahead.  “About the match, I mean.”

“Why? Do you really want another go at me that bad?”  He cursed his voice for the bitter edge it grasped towards the end. A little lilt to it that almost sounded  _hurt_.  A part of him hoped Riku would just ignore it like all his other false cues tonight, but—of course— _this_  was the one he took.

For a moment, green stared deep into ocean blue.  So many people had told him since his rebirth how  _similar_  his eyes were to Sora’s.  How they were a bit less  _green_  than Ven’s.  Brighter—somehow—than Xion’s.   This was the first time in all those weeks that someone had looked at him without judgment in their eyes, or the lingering traces of sadness.  The first time anyone had acknowledged that there was someone there besides shadows and a mirage.  

After what felt like decades, Riku’s lips lifted into a fond smile, and his eyes narrowed into a soft stare.  “Yeah,” he said, “I think I do.”

Roxas scoffed.  “Time and place, Pretty boy.”   Some confidence returned to Riku’s form as that smile shifted into a smirk.

“You’re really gonna let  _me_  choose?”

“Well, yeah,” Roxas countered, “I can kick your ass anywhere, might as well let you choose the venue.”

With another snort and a sidelong look up at that endless night sky, Riku grinned.  “I’m gonna hold you to that.”


	2. Rematch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moment they'd both been waiting for: a chance to put their cards on the table--keyblade to keyblade.
> 
> Things don't go as planned.

Roxas recoiled a couple feet, skidding in the dense sand beneath his feet, Oblivion still vibrating in his right hand.

It had been a while since he’d felt this  _excited_  about anything.  Adrenaline coursed through his veins with every  _clang_  of metal hitting metal.  His heartbeat rang loud in his ears.  Each breath came as a labored punch to his chest, gasped out with each pursuant strike that came hard against his keyblades.   Every muscle burned with the heat of parrying dodges and instinctual counters, singing a melody of pain that he’d most certainly regret in the morning.

But right now, skating to a halt beneath another of Riku’s missed opportunities and piercing up through his defenses with Oathkeeper, he could feel nothing but the familiar surge of battle humming through his limbs.  That liquid courage of exuberance and dancing emotions that came every time the chill of Oblivion sat heavy in his right while the burn of Oathkeeper remained steady in his left.  

Ducking through the Silveret’s legs, Roxas bounded to his feet a few paces away and slid his keyblades together in an arc of light. Riku was right behind it, Braveheart roaring through the air in a downward strike.   Diving backwards, the Blonde threw his Keyblades in a spiral at his opponent, but the Silveret knocked them back to him with a quick block. Their hilts were hardly back in his palms before the New True Master was in front of him again, flipping over himself in a daring descent.    Roxas caught his attack between both his blades, holding him at bay with only the slightest wince.

Riku had gotten stronger since the last time they had fought.   There was a confidence in his style that there hadn’t been when he was still a nobody.  A gleam in his eyes that spoke of challenges well-fought and obstacles overcome.  A self-reliance that left no room for error or opportunity.  When he saw an opening, he took it.  When he found a weakness, he exploited it.  And despite  _always_  feeling strong, Roxas found himself quaking under the weight Riku’s impact left shaking against his grip.

With a yelp, Roxas broke their standoff in a quick hop backwards.  Riku followed in a dash of blue energy, coming up on him with an opener that the Blonde was forced to deflect with Oathkeeper.   Grunting under the weight of impact, he deflected the Silveret back with a quick jab from Oblivion.   It didn’t keep his opponent at bay long, but that brief pause left just enough time for him to channel energy through his keyblades in a host of bright bursts.  It put enough distance between them for Roxas to catch his breath and regroup for their next exchange.

They’d been going at it for about an hour now.   Every time he believed he had the upper hand, the Silveret would change his strategies  _just enough_  that he had to push him back to think up more of his own.   Roxas might have been faster, but Riku was stronger.  Whenever push came to shove, he gave just as much as he got.  Took every ounce of effort Roxas threw into flash and flare and sent it back tenfold.   Came prepared with darkness in one palm and the echo of light down his keyblade.  But even after all this fighting, he only just  _now_  looked winded when Roxas felt just a couple more hits away from throwing in the towel.  

“Do you admit it, yet?”  Riku asked breathlessly.  Despite still heaving for air, he managed to stand tall against the rays of sunlight highlighting the beach.    _How does he manage to **always** look good in any light?_

“What are you talking about? Admit  _what_?”

“That I win,” The Silveret retorted, pushing his bangs out of his eyes.  Once emerald pools were jade daggers, piercing him with all the challenge of the world over.  “Come on, Roxas, you’re shaking.”

“Am I?”   Oblivion fell back on his shoulder as he carelessly pointed Oathkeeper at his opponent.  “Cause you’re not looking too hot yourself, Pretty Boy.”  Letting the heavy metal fall back against his side with a dull clap, Roxas shook the sweat out of his hair with a groan.  “Though this  _beach_  is fucking  _sweltering_!”

“What are you talking about?  This is  _perfect_  sparring weather!”  

“Tell that to my soaked clothes!  They’re weighing me down.”

“Making excuses now?”  Riku rolled his eyes and took up his famous stance, ready and waiting for the next round of blows.  Roxas immediately squared himself for the attack.  “Come on, Roxas, I thought you said you could kick my ass anywhere!” The Blonde huffed in response, turning it into a gasp as the Silveret charged in another bolt of blue light.  

He barely got a second to raise Oblivion before Braveheart was hard against it, staggering him back into a series of quick strikes.   Matching each one with a shock of quaking metal, Roxas channeled a jolt of electricity up through Oathkeeper while ice froze to the tip of Oblivion.  Jumping a few steps in retreat, he threw the storm for his opponent and followed it up with an aerial hop around the next advance.  

Taking advantage of Riku’s turned back, he charged into the fray and caught him with a slice that sent the Silveret into the air.   Following with a smirk plastered to his lips, the Blonde caught Braveheart with an upward slash from Oblivion, followed by a downward peel from Oathkeeper.  Spinning to up his momentum, he reprimanded another block with a swipe hard enough to earn him yet another deep grunt as they both went crashing toward the ground.

Riku caught himself in a one-handed kick-stand while Roxas flipped back to his corner.  “What were you saying about that Ass-kicking?” Green eyes rolled in disdain.

“So, you got in  _one good_   _combo_ , that’s hardly something to boast about.”

“What?!  That was  _not_  the  _only_  good combo, you  _prick_!”

“I’m disappointed,” the Silveret taunted, standing tall again with one hand planted firmly on his hip, “I expected more of a challenge.”

_You want a challenge?_   Roxas swallowed a war cry, making a quick advance toward the Silveret.  Feigning away from that hardened glare, he dashed into the sky in a blinding ray of light.  Summoning all the strength he could muster, he channeled his light through Oathkeeper and pushed his darkness through Oblivion.  Clashing them together in front of him, he gathered the shockwave of their collision into a force around him.  Let it build and build and  _build_ , until he could do nothing but let it spew forth with a roar of effort.  

Closing in quickly behind it, Roxas appeared just as Riku opened his eyes against the blinding light, eyes going wide with the impending strike that crashed toward him.  Forced to retreat, the Blonde pulled a reversal around the darkfire he readied at the tip of Braveheart before  _slamming_  Oblivion into the back of his shoulders with a quick twirl into another slicing blow from Oathkeeper.   He felt each impact shake through the metal of each subsequent strike, giving his opponent no time to draw his weapon to defend against his attacks.    

As he sent Riku flying back with a stiff kick and a firm tap from Oblivion, he raised his keyblades before him and allowed all his power to gather at their conjoined tips.  “Is this enough of a challenge for you?!”  He howled, letting the blast go in a gust of displaced sand and silt.

Chest rising and falling like waves against the shore, Roxas listened in the impending silence for Riku’s reprisal. Waited on anxious heartbeats while his thoughts raced— _oh shit, did I go too hard?  Is he okay? Did I kill him?—_ and his stomach crawled itself into a bed of twisted knots.   Cautiously, he took a hesitant step into the cloud of dust separating them with a low call of, “Riku?”

No cough had ever been as reassuring as the one that answered him.  

Racing through the fog, he came to a skidding halt by the downed Silveret while Oblivion and Oathkeeper reluctantly dissipated back into his heart.   The Blonde rested a comforting hand against his shoulder, trying to keep him down even as Riku kept fighting to sit up.   Finally, Roxas called upon a light  _aero_  spell to clear the dust and debris circling around them, coughing against the last traces of sand that managed their way down his throat.  

After another symphony of mismatched coughing, Riku finally found his way onto his hackles and quickly shook shards of golden sand from his hair.   Roxas couldn’t help a vindictive little laugh as he helped remove what little remained. “I  _told you_  I could kick your ass.  I was just warming up.”

“I still call bullshit on your  _two_  keyblades, it feels wildly advantageous for  _you_.”

“I already told you—”

“Yeah, I know— _I don’t write the rules_ ,” Riku rolled his eyes and rose to his feet. Roxas quickly followed, if for nothing else than to close a bit of the gaping distance between them.  He immediately cringed at the onslaught of sand coating every inch of his sweaty clothes.  The Silveret snorted.  “What? The big bad dual wielder himself can’t take a little  _sand_?”

“Oh, shut  _up_  before I drop your ass again.”    Riku chuckled with a quiet shake of his head.   His footsteps padded across the sandy beach on a quiet stroll toward the deserted beach.   With midday light shining in from the horizon, that ethereal glow was almost too bright for Roxas to handle.   With his black jacket abandoned somewhere along the beach, the white of his tank top shone in stark contrast against the navy fabric of his shorts. Without boots to leave tracks embedded in the sodden expanse, he watched toes wiggle experimentally in the waves crashing lightly onto the shore.  

It was  _odd_ , being here like this.    Once upon a time, Destiny Islands had been a dream he watched play over and over in Sora’s heart.  Had yearned for it in his years of sleep while the Brunette hopped from world to world, never really knowing what might become of his true home. 

_Home_ , he thought,  _where is mine_?   It  _definitely_  wasn’t  _here_.

The Beach was beautiful—the view pristine—but Destiny Islands held more sorrow for Roxas than anything.    Between the feel of distant sea shells in his palms without knowing their source and seeing that empty seat on the Paopu tree, this place had come a long way from being the one place he wanted to see more than anything into the last place he wanted to be  _ever_.  

_How can it look so beautiful when all it ever creates is despair_?  

“Hey, Roxas, you done daydreaming yet?”  He pulled out of his thoughts as a splash of cold water jettisoned the heat right out of his body.  With a shiver and a glare, Roxas felt the threat of yet  _another_  rematch flaring in his blood.  

Discarding his jacket in the sand, he raced down the shore, dodging each wave Riku expertly flicked his way.  Kicking off his shoes at the edge of the water, Roxas dove off the beach and summoned Oblivion in mid-air.  “You’re gonna pay for that!” He hollered while summoning a waterza at the edge of his blade.  

Laughter bubbled through the air as Riku quickly dodged out of the way and shot a blast of waterga at him.   “There you go with your keyblade, again!  Water-fights are more fun with your hands, you  _goof_!”

“Who said I was playing for fun?”  A maniacal laugh departed his throat with another pulse of magical water.    Riku dove beneath an oncoming wave to escape it, breaching the surface in a glory of flattened silver and glistening green gems. Breath caught in Roxas’s throat as the other boy let loose another genuine laugh, his smile large and  _beaming_.

_So, this is what Sora always saw,_  he realized.   

In that single moment of distraction, emerald darkened to tourmaline and the New True Master swiftly reprimanded him with a sudden and graceful tackle.

Whatever air remained in his lungs left in an  _oof_  of force as they landed in a heap on the ground.   Roxas immediately reached up to reverse their positions and pin Riku back where he belonged, but he was struck—again—by just how dazzling the boy could look with droplets of salt water running down his face, glistening in the light of the sun.

_How could you ever think someone else was your light?_   “You’re not the only one who plays for keeps, Roxi.”  Said atop that cocky smirk, beneath a narrowed jade glare, Roxas couldn’t help that his brain short-circuited.   Couldn’t help the pregnant pause that slid over them as it dawned on Riku what he’d just said; what he’d just  _called_  him.   Watched as the awkward silence pulled that confident sneer right off his lips and had the Silveret on his feet in seconds, unsurely running his long fingers through damp grey strands.

Roxas followed but a moment later, sitting up with a deep and fortifying breath.   Shaking a bit of sand from his hair, he remained there, cupping a handful of grains within his palms as Riku’s mouth flapped open and closed like a fish out of water.  When no words immediately came, he snapped his jaw shut with a harsh click and settled down beside him with a deadened thud.  

The Blonde couldn’t help the morose grin that split his lips.  “We’re fucked up, aren’t we?”

“What do you mean?”  Riku spoke with a gratitude that clung to his peace offering like a dog to a bone.  Roxas figured it was only fair to indulge him.

“I  _mean_ ,” he began, gesturing out to the great beyond sitting hazy across the horizon, “nothing will ever affect us again, will it?  We’ve been so many places, done so many things, felt so much joy and pain and loss; what  _else_  could there ever be?”

“There’re other worlds out there,” Riku reasoned, “there has to be.”

“But what reason would we ever have to visit them? It’s not like there’s heartless or nobodies waiting to swallow their hearts into darkness or anything.”

For a moment, Riku was quiet.  All the tension laced into his back and shoulders melted into the sand beneath him as he bent one knee before him and lightly rested his elbow atop it.  The stance reminded him of one of the last visions he’d seen through Sora’s eyes. Of staring at an old friend’s back and thinking,  _we’ve all changed so much_.   Heat stung at the corner of each eye at even just the memory of feeling that full heart pitch at not being caught between both of his friends.  Of realizing that, yes, people  _could_  grow apart after so many life-changing adventures.

He blinked the wetness from his sight.  

“You know what world I miss the most?”  Riku suddenly spoke, filling the quiet with his melancholy timbre.  “Traverse Town.”

“Traverse Town?”  He echoed.   “I don’t think I’ve ever been there.”

“Whenever you need a home away from home, it’s always there to catch you.  It was where our journey began.  I kinda hoped we might get to visit it again before…well, you know.”

“Yeah,” Roxas cringed, leaning back on his hands and staring up at the bright blue sky.  It reminded him so much of his other.  “I miss our world… _The World That Never Was_.   It might not have been much, but that was where so many of my first memories formed. Hell, I might even miss the Organization…”

“I wouldn’t go  _that_  far,” Riku chuckled.  Roxas joined in, letting out a little satisfied sigh as it died into a peaceful quiet.  Beside him, Riku shuffled in the sand, looking through his bangs up at the Paopu tree.

“I miss him the most, though,” he admitted on a solemn whisper.    Roxas’s grin felt fake under the crest of emotion thick in his chest.

_Of course, you do…I do, too…_   But he couldn’t find the breath to say it aloud.  Not when the few inches between them still felt like endless miles.

“I have an idea,” Riku whispered for his ears only, causing the Blonde’s heartbeat to jump into his ears and heat to pool in his cheeks.   The Silveret worked hard to repress a teasing grin while the Blonde hoped he figured it was from the heat.  “We should go out and visit the different worlds.”

“What, like,  _together_?”  Slowly, as if mocking him, Riku nodded his head.  The Blonde rolled his eyes.  “Are you kidding me?  There’s no way we could travel in a Gummiship together that long!  We’d kill each other!”

“Well, think of it as another battle, then.  The first person to go ape-shit during the journey will be the loser.”

“Let me get this straight,” Roxas reiterated, glaring into emerald pools of expectation, “you want  _us_ , the fucking  _dream team_ , to visit other worlds for  _shits and giggles_ — _together_.”

“How much slower do I have to say it?  Or do I gotta say, got i—”

“No,  _stop_ , you don’t get to say that unless you’ve lived it!”  Another laugh bubbled out of the Silveret’s throat.  Roxas reluctantly thought,  _he needs to stop doing that_.  

“Alright, alright, fine!  No Lea—”

“ _Axel_ —”

“— _Axel_  catchphrases,  _for now_.  But I still think this trip could be a good idea.   It’d get us out and give us an excuse to pick up some keepsakes for your new home.”   Thinking of it like that, Roxas was hard pressed to find anything that dissuaded him-- _besides_ the fact it was  _Riku_ asking him.

“I  _guess_ ,” he began reluctantly, “it couldn’t hurt to get some things for Xion and Axel.”

“Then, it’s settled.”   Once again, Riku beamed with that bright smile of his and held out a hand.   Hesitantly, Roxas lifted his out of the sand and clasped those long fingers within his own.  Holding tight to that point of contact, green eyes softened and that smile folded down into an expression that made the Blonde’s insides crawl.  “Thanks, Roxas.”

“Yeah, no problem, Pretty Boy.”  As Riku rolled his eyes and fell back against the sand, Roxas looked up at the bright blue sky and felt the rays of the sun kiss his face.  

_I hope you’re proud of me…Sora._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed! ^_^


	3. Travel - Part 1

With miles of wilderness in all directions and no sign of civilization anywhere to be seen, the Silveret wasn’t sure what their navigation gummi had sensed that led it  _here_.   In retrospect, he supposed that trusting  _Roxas_  to just let the ship lead them where it would wasn’t one of his  _best_  decisions, but considering all the items they needed to acquire before this mission was done, Riku couldn’t say he was all that disappointed.   If nothing else, at least it was nice to have company his own age for once.  

What was this—the  _first_  time?  

It  _felt_  like the first time.    

So did going around an unknown world without the threat of imminent doom sitting pretty on his shoulders.   A part of him wondered if he’d ever been to any places in the past where he felt safe enough—comfortable enough—to just enjoy the scenery without looking over his shoulder every five seconds.    If he’d ever stood in a room without feeling eyes watching him from shadows, waiting for him to make a mistake; to show weakness.

He couldn’t remember.  

No matter how hard he tried, all he could recall were cold shoulders and even colder glares.

Even after everything, Riku couldn’t stop asking himself,  _how could I have been so blind_?

_Well, at least you can see well enough to know that’s not a tomato,_  he commended himself as he watched Roxas bend down to grab the ninth leiden potato in a row.   No matter how the blonde wiped dirt off the root vegetable, it remained crusted with a layer of cracked earth.     He let out a heave of breath, falling hard onto the ground while mindlessly throwing the potato up to him.

Riku caught it effortlessly.   “Giving up already?”

“It’s hot,” Roxas returned flatly, “I’m tired, and there are no goddamn tomatoes on this fucking world.”

“There has to be tomatoes somewhere,” he assured. “Besides, that’s only  _one_  missing item on the list.  We still have a whole host of other ingredients we’ve yet to find.”

“Wow, you are just a  _beacon_  of encouragement,” Roxas chided, lying down on the ground with his hands folded beneath his head.  Was it bad that he kind of wanted to kick him?  

“Like  _you’re_  any better.”  

“I’m not the one who walked into the Bistro during the busiest hours to tell _everyone_ I was going on a long ass quest of self-exploration.    Don’t pin this on  _me_.”   It was  _definitely_  bad that he wanted to kick him.  

“Look, I just wanted our friends to know where we were going.”

“Why?  So if we got eaten by the Heartless we  _haven’t even seen_  they could put their whole head together in some botched attempt to rescue us?”  

“Are you  _always_  this pessimistic?”

“Do you always ask this many questions?”  Okay, on  _second thought_ , maybe it  _was_  better he only traveled alone or with Mickey.  

The darkness had  _nothing_  on Roxas.   “You could’ve stepped in and told them to fuck off like you so enjoy telling me.”

“Jealous?”  Riku rolled his eyes.  

Lying there, peaceful and relaxed, it was hard to believe  _this_  was the person who made him contemplate the morality of murder on a daily basis.   But Roxas had always been an anomaly to him.  The way he wore darkness like it was a second skin while wielding light without any effort.    The way he picked fights with all the confidence of victory on his side, never counting his losses.   The fact he could stand toe to toe with someone like Xemnas and say the boldest of words and  _absolutely_  mean them.  

He wasn’t sure if the Blonde was someone to be idolized or feared, but he was sure that no light should look as good as his cohort looked bathed in his shadow.    “I guess I’ll just find the rest by myself, then, if you’re too lazy to help.”

“Good luck, Pretty Boy.”  With another roll of his eyes, Riku walked over the other boy,  _accidentally_  kicking his legs as he went.

He was beginning to regret this decision.  

At first, traveling with Roxas had been a  _godsend_  after months of lonely nights aboard the gummiship.   Sitting in the same seat Sora had sat time and time again, practically hearing his memories echoing off the walls along with snippets from Donald and Goofy had been almost too much for his heart to take after the incident.  Having someone else there—someone willing to  _talk_ —had filled that endless void with all the distractions he needed to bypass grief and dash straight back into focus.  But once the initial relief wore off, the realization of what he’d done sank in—deep and  _fast_.  

Between the eight-hundred messages Roxas received daily in comparison to Riku’s  _one_ — _if that_ —and the endless rounds of snarky wordplay that had no off-switch, he was starting to lose his mind.   If he was woken up  _one more time_  in the middle of a warp-gate to the Blonde’s phone chiming painfully into the night, murder would no longer be a  _possibility_  in his mind.  It’d be a very real, very  _bloody_  reality.  

This felt like fighting the darkness all  _over_  again, only somehow  _worse_.   At least back then he had Sora to look forward to.   What did he have now?

Oh, right,  _nothing_.

“Fucking Roxas…” He grumbled, kneeling down to inspect a small bush of pebble-like beans.   Shaking a few loose into his palms, he pocketed them into his satchel before standing back up and making his way forward.   On his far right, the first sign of civilization sat alone in the dilapidated ruins of a shack.  Unopened boxes sat cluttered by a hole where the entrance once stood, untouched by everything but dirt and aged dust.  Signs of weathering existed on each slat of wind-worn wood barely holding the tiny thing together.  Scars from sand storms bit dents and scratches into its bare bones, offering shadows where light reflected off the hollowed structure.  

Something about the shack drew him closer.   Carried him inside the rickety framing where pockets of isolated sunlight beamed down through the many cracks in the ceiling like a ladder of pock-marks leading him beyond the entrance and toward the very back of the building.  In the left corner, huddled beneath a series of faded, old newspapers sat a discarded little trinket.  Silver and round, it shone with the brilliance of an abandoned relic after his thumb brushed off some of the dust.  

A reflection of himself peered back from atop its surface, drawn in lines of curiosity and caution.  Traces of dirt and toil sat stark against the paleness of his skin, darkening strands of his hair from silvery-white to ash-grey. Emerald pools appeared large and tourmaline when he moved it closer for inspection, obscuring parts of the object from view like moss atop a rock.  Brushing his thumb over the surface again, he hissed as a sharpened edge dug into his skin, drawing out a pinprick of blood to the surface.  

Sucking on the cut to stem the bleeding, he quickly pocketed the piece into his pants before standing and retreating back the way he came.

With no new finds to mark off his list and no real discoveries of note, he found himself torn between returning to his cohort and just continuing on his merry way, but he could practically hear that all-too-familiar voice sharp in his ears, scolding him again.

_Who are you trying to fool_?  

Perhaps it was himself—again.  This time, he wasn’t so sure.  

Definitely not  _Roxas_ —at least that much he knew.   Even if he tried, he didn’t think he could hide from the Blonde.   He was too damn  _perceptive_.  

“Back so soon, eh?”  Speaking of which, Riku rolled his eyes at the boy still lying still on the ground.     For all the different aspects that made the Blonde so vastly different from Sora, there were a plethora of others that reminded him—constantly—how similar the two were.    This particular one made Riku painfully nostalgic for lazy days on endless shores.   “Did you find any tomatoes?”

“No, but I did find signs of civilization and a couple of nifty trinkets.  Have you moved at  _all_ since I left?”

“Sure have.  Took a quick little walk in  _that_  direction,” Roxas drawled while lazily pointing away from them, “and found a billboard for an outpost called  _Hammerhead_ , or some shit.”

“Sounds  _super_  promising.”

“What?  You don’t believe me?”

“I’m pretty positive you haven’t moved an inch since I left.” At that, Roxas sat up and managed a glare at him.  

“You calling me a  _liar_ , Pretty Boy?”

“I sure as hell aren’t calling you  _cute_.”  The Blonde let out a grunt of effort as he got to his feet, dusting off his clothes of any dirt clinging to the dense fabric.   Stepping closer, he poked a finger into Riku’s chest with a narrowed leer.

“First off,” he growled, wrapping his fist in one of Riku’s jacket lapels, “I am fucking  _adorable_.  Secondly,” he continued while dragging the Silveret behind him, “the sign is right fucking  _there_.”  

Sure enough, standing in stark contrast to the barren isolation all around it, that singular billboard rose over the landscape in a shadowy sheet of billowing letters printed into deteriorating steel.  A faded arrow pointed to the east of them with names and locations printed in a language that was strangely foreign to him.     How Roxas had managed to decipher anything with all that dirt and peeling plaster, Riku would probably never know, but given that the Blonde was  _still_  leading him down the pathway carved out by the arrow, he figured there was really no point in asking.

_Might as well see where this goes, I guess_.   “So, did that sign say anything about where to find ingredients?”

“I’d assume that an outpost in the middle of a goddamn desert would likely have  _something_ resembling a moogle store for us to peruse.”

“That feels a lot like  _cheating_ , Roxas.”  

“Does it?”  He finally let go of Riku’s collar, wiping his hand down his pant leg like there were cooties he just  _had_  to get off.   The Silveret couldn’t help a little leer.  “I think I prefer the term  _critical thinking_.”

“Whether or not you want to accept it, this is a mission.   We should treat it like one.”  

“It wouldn’t  _be_  a mission if  _someone_  hadn’t bothered to offer in the  _first place_.”  Riku rolled his eyes.

“It’s not that big a deal, Roxas.  It’s just a few more items and then we’ll be free to go wherever your sassy heart desires.” The Blonde spotted him a glare over his shoulder.

“Yeah, that’s what you said ten minutes ago when we got our twentieth potato in a row!  You do know that for a  _fraction_ of the munny we have saved up from our collective travels we could buy out a small shop of all these ingredients and more, right?”

“We don’t even know if this world takes munny.” This time, Roxas actually stopped and turned where he stood to glare up at Riku like he was the biggest idiot on the planet.   Maybe he was, judging by his choice of companion.

“What world doesn’t take  _munny_?  What other currency even  _is there_?”   Reaching into his pocket, Riku held up the chipped coin he’d found in the shack, letting it shine brightly in the afternoon light.

“This world has  _gil_.”

“What the  _fuck_  is  _gil_?”  Before the Blonde could snatch the silver piece from his palm, Riku jammed it back into his pocket and continued on their journey east, shaking his head.  

“Wow, Roxas.  Just…wow.”  

Silence enveloped them after that, lending a peace to the journey Riku thought impossible after all the tension lingering between them as of late.   Although it was a subtlety he prided himself on ignoring for the most part, he still felt the gap between them like the cold, icy chill of a drop off hidden beneath cerulean waves.  Like a cavernous depth waiting to engulf them, it only grew the longer the two of them tip-toed around the main reason—the  _only_  reason—they were even here in the first place.

But Riku didn’t want to be the one who said it, not when he felt like mentioning Sora around Roxas was somehow taboo.  

A large part of him—which he blamed on the Brunet—wanted to ask if he was okay. To see if the boy who’d been so deeply connected to his friend’s heart felt just how empty and bottomless the Silveret felt when he realized his best friend was gone.  If he sometimes woke up from a dream, ready to share it with the bubbly hero only to remember that he wasn’t there.  If he ever looked in the mirror, stared into his blue eyes and thought— _I shouldn’t be here_.  

Because Riku did—all the time.   A piece of him wanted to summon his keyblade  _right now_  and reach deep into the bowels of his heart for the last threads of Sora he could still feel tumbling around inside it. To cling to cherished memories and let them open the keyhole that’d lead him wherever his friend was resting now, if only so he could see him one last time.  

_But I was the one who let him go_ , he always reminded himself.   _This is what he wanted—what made him happy.   I can’t tarnish that because of my selfishness_. 

A part of him kind of hoped Roxas was less selfless than him, but given that he had resumed begrudgingly retrieving random ingredients from any living vegetation willing to yield results, he didn’t think he’d have much luck.   No matter how boisterous and sarcastic the Blonde was, Sora had a way of leaving a lasting imprint on every heart he touched.   No doubt, it was even larger on the blonde than it even was on him.  

_He must really miss him_ , he thought solemnly as Roxas quietly dropped a few pieces of root into their satchel of goods.   Riku decided to take mercy on the poor sap.  

“Well, I think that’s pretty much everything on the list.”

“Fucking  _finally_ …” The Blonde grumbled, kicking at the ground.   They both stopped and looked at the strange, paper object that tumbled away with the momentum of the hit.   Already furrowed brows came together in a disgruntled look of surprise. “Cup noodles?  Out here in the desert?”

Riku glanced down at him sheepishly.  “What’re  _cup noodles_?”

The Blonde stared back in disbelief.  “How do you  _not_  know what cup noodles are?  What kind of teenager  _are_  you?”

“The kind who got swallowed by darkness and subsequently charged with saving the world?”  For a long, quiet moment, Roxas did nothing but leer at him. 

After what felt like decades, he finally responded, “anything else you wanna unpack while we’re here?”

“Now that you mention it—”

“That was rhetorical,” he interrupted, dismissing Riku’s soft words with a careless wave.  He stomped over to the cup and crouched down to poke at its flimsy surface with a ringed finger.  “But seriously, where did this come from?”

“Didn’t you say there’s an outpost nearby?  Maybe someone dropped it on their way back from it.”  Roxas shook his head as he picked up the cup and inspected it for any clues.  Turning it this way and that in the sunlight, he glanced briefly back at Riku.

“It’s still pretty warm—too warm for a building that’s nowhere in sight.” Putting the cup back down, he took a quick picture of it with his gummi-phone before standing back up. Riku casually jerked his head at the winding dirt roads heading deeper into the open mountains.

“Why don’t we follow the trails?  We might find something.”

“Yeah?  Like what? More ingredients?”  Offering a smirk, he took the first step off the road and into unknown territory.

“If we’re lucky, sure.”

“Well, in  _that_  case, I guess we’ll be eating death for the next couple mornings.”

Riku rolled his eyes.  “Are you  _always_  like this or are you just being  _extra_  dramatic for me?”

Roxas’s grin was nothing short of shit-eating.  “That’s cute, you think I act different around you.”

“Alright then, hot shot,” he taunted, reaching for his phone, “let me just call Xion or Ax—”

“Don’t you fucking  _dare_ , Pretty Boy.”

Riku shrugged, letting the plastic fall back into the depths of his pocket, “I guess that proves I’m right.”

“How the  _fuck_  does that—” Whatever the Blonde was about to say died as a loud  _click_  boomed through the emptiness.   Both boys shared a quick look before their keyblades materialized into their hands, ready for whatever monster wished to disturb their peace.  

Instead of a heartless, a lanky Blonde with hair oddly similar to Roxas’s smiled sheepishly at them while holding his camera up in surrender.  “Hey, uh, sorry about that!  I didn’t think you guys would notice me in the midst of your couple’s spat!”

Riku went ghost white as Roxas shaded an angry red. “We’re not even  _friends_.”

“Hah, well, you certainly fooled me.”  Casually heading down towards them, Riku and Roxas finally let their weapons dematerialize back into their hearts. The man didn’t even blink.  “The name’s Prompto, by the way.   Are you guys new here?”

“No,” Roxas seethed, his blue eyes narrowed into a deadly glare, “are  _you_?”  Despite the storm clouds backing each and every syllable, Prompt still managed a lighthearted laugh.

“’Fraid not!  Me and a couple of pals are on a road trip to Altissia!”

“What are you doing out here, then?”  Riku questioned, gesturing at the barren landscape around them.   For a moment, Prompto just bit his lip and contemplated them, but after a couple of seconds, he gave a large shrug and stepped closer to them.   

“Can you guys keep a secret?”  He asked on a conspiratorial whisper.

Riku answered, “yes,” right as Roxas responded, “ _no_.”  Unfazed by their lack of synchronization, the Blonde leaned an inch closer and looked at them in turn with the eyes of someone who had definitely  _seen some shit_.

_Oh no, not again._   “See, my friend is  _kind of_  a big deal around here. The  _biggest_  deal, so we have to keep to the outskirts or he might be  _assassinated_.”  

Taking a moment to let that sink in, Roxas looked up at Riku and stared with all the disdain of the world over.  “Oh,” he said in that penetratingly flat tone, “wonderful.”

“Yeah!  Come on,” Prompto encouraged with a jerk of his thumb up the mountain, “I’ll introduce you!”   Without waiting for an answer, he dashed off at a clumsy pace, looking back only  _once_  to make sure they were there behind him.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Roxas leaned into his space and whispered, “have I mentioned this was a bad idea?”

“Only six times.”

“Only  _six_? Wow,” the Blonde proclaimed, actually looking  _pleased_  at this information, “I’m proud of myself.”

“It might have been more,” Riku teased, “but I tuned you out after the first two.”  Throwing a narrowed glare at him, the Blonde stomped after Prompt with a little huff.

Despite himself, Riku thought,  _I’m glad I brought him along for this.  You really have a great Other, Sora_ , with a smile up at the bright blue sky.  

“Come on, you slow poke!  Demyx’s somebody is getting away!”   _I take that back_ , he thought as he nearly doubled over in laughter,  _you have the **best**  other._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and I hope you Enjoyed! ^_^


	4. Eos - Take 2

Almost immediately upon climbing up the final hill in their now sweat-laden trek through the desert shrubs of Northern Lucis, the unlikely trio was met by a hulking mass of pure testosterone standing tall and intimidating atop the plateau Prompto had _promised_ them two minutes ago—Roxas had _counted_ —was their final destination.

Final destination it certainly was slated to be with a Lexaeus-looking guardian leering down at them, arms folded over his exposed, tattooed chest and expression caught somewhere between disappointment for Prompto and suspicion for them.   Unlike the Silent Hero, this guy was probably a couple hands shorter, but he _looked_ meaner.  Hardened like steel and dented with scars of battle, Roxas could only imagine what kind of force such a formidable foe brought with him into battle.

After this long traveling through the heat of the desert, he was just about ready to find out.

Luckily—mostly for that guy—instead of launching into a fist fight Roxas _would not_ lose, he just slid his way calmly down from his throne and did him the honors of smacking Demyx’s somebody upside the head.  “What part of _incognito_ did you _not_ understand?!”

“Ow! Hey!  That is _no way_ to treat a friend!”

“It is to treat a fucking dumbass,” the Big Guy grumbled in a deep mumble.  Setting eyes on Riku and himself, amber narrowed into a glare of contempt.   Despite looking like a behemoth ready to tear them limb from limb, his eyes were surprisingly gentle.  As was his voice as he continued, “this spot’s taken.  There’s one a few paces east near Hammerhead you can stay at, instead.”

“That’s just _great_ ,” Roxas growled.  “ _Your_ friend drags us all the way out here and you just send us packing?”

“Roxas,” Riku hissed at his side, glancing between him and the Big Guy, “I don’t think this is the time to pick a fight.”

“Can it, Pretty Boy.”

“You got a death wish, kid?”  Striding up closer to them, the difference in height was almost comical.  While Riku could _just_ meet his gaze, Roxas had to crane his neck to make up the distance, and even then, he came up short a couple paces.  

Not that a little height had ever scared him.  “I’ve taken down bigger than you.”

“Bigger than Gladio?  Is that even _possible_?  He’s a _mountain_!”

“Can it, Prompto!” Demyx’s somebody scoffed with a roll of his eyes.  “I’ll deal with you after they’re _gone_.”

“Make my fucking _day_ , Big Guy.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Riku cut in, putting himself between them.  Gladio bared his teeth at him in a snarl while Roxas felt Oblivion and Oathkeeper sizzle in his palms.  “We didn’t come here to pick a fight.”

“We’re not the ones picking a fight!” Roxas barked back, earning a pointed stare from Riku.

“You heard Prompto.  Their friend could be assassinated, Roxas.  I would be on edge, too.”

“On _edge_?  He was straight up—”

“Wait, Prompto said _what_?!”  The Aforementioned stiffened where he stood off to the side, shrinking inward at the potency of ire pressed on him.  “You fucking _told them_?!”

“I didn’t tell them _everything_ , just that we were going to Altissia!”

“And traveling with precious fucking cargo?!”

“They can summon their weapons from the Ether just like us!  I figured they could be survivors—you know, from…” Gladio’s rage dissipated to livid tension with a long exhale through his nose.  Without a word, he turned back to the foreign duo and balled his fists at his sides.  

With his jaw clenched tight in restraint, he bit out, “show me.”

“Show you—”

Without a word, Riku held out his hand and summoned Braveheart into his open fingers ~~with the echo of cars unlocking in the distance~~.  Clenching the hilt, he let his keyblade hang loose by his side while Gladio gave him a once over.  Roxas felt Oblivion and Oathkeeper answer the call to arms—sinking deep into the flesh of his palms in wait for the coming battle.  

But Gladio made no move to counter them.   Instead, he took a couple cautious steps back and reached his hand high into the sky.  In a flash of blue light, a large hilt settled in his grip, forming into a hulking mass of steel as he drew a fucking _greatsword_ from thin air.

_Alright,_ Roxas could admit, _that’s pretty fucking awesome_. 

Stabbing his giant weapon into the ground by his side, the Brunet took a step back and crossed his arms over his chest.  Keeping a glare trained on Roxas and Riku, he called to Prompto in a stern voice, “go get Ignis and wake sleeping beauty.”

“R-right!”  While the Blonde scurried onto the plateau behind them, amber eyes narrowed on the two remaining youngsters.

“You have five seconds to explain who the fuck you are and why the fuck you’re here.”

“Ex _cuse_ —”

“We’re sightseeing,” Riku interjected peacefully.  “We recently lost a friend and thought a trip might help us.”  Those narrow slits widened a fraction of an inch in surprise, but he quickly blinked his expression back into neutrality.

 “Those weapons—who gave you them?”

“No one,” Roxas barked.

“Bullshit!  Someone had to give you access to the Ether to summon weapons like that.”

“What the fuck is the—”

 “It was our Master,” Riku saved, taking a step closer while sending Braveheart back into his heart ~~with an echo of locking car doors sounding in his wake~~.  “He taught us how to use them.”

“Who was your Master?”

“Who was _yours_?”  Meeting that amber stare with liquid malachite, Riku held steadfast to his stance without any intentions of backing down.   Atop his shoulders sat the confidence Roxas had seen in their last rematch together, glittering at his fingers in wait for the first strike to be struck.  No cockiness rested in the straight lines of his expression—just a readiness that had been born out of facing countless enemies countless times to save countless allies.

Behind him, Roxas felt the press of light and darkness focused in his palms, ready to spread forth should push come to shove.   They both settled with a dull ache as a bespectacled Dirty Blonde standing about the height of Riku walked up to them with a posture and prose that put even the most dignified member of their team to shame. 

Pushing up his glasses, he calmly came to a stop beside Gladio and pierced them with sharpened jade daggers.  “I hear Prompto brought _guests_.”

“Oh, he brought guests alright.”  With a snort, Gladio rolled his eyes and dismissed his weapon into the Ether.  “Has Sleeping Beauty woken up yet?”

 “Prompto’s trying now.”  With another roll of his eyes, Gladio glared at the two young adults and finally uncrossed his arms. 

“Don’t give me a reason to chop you in half when I get back.” As he turned back to the plateau and stomped up the hill, Roxas let out a furious breath and leered at the remaining Outsider.

“Are you guys _always_ this welcoming to your _guests_?” 

“Are you always this impudent?”  Roxas flushed an angry red in indignation.  The Dirty Blonde merely offered a one-sided smirk.  “Seems like a yes to me.”

Before he could say a word in retort, Riku had him by the wrist with a stern look.  “Don’t.”

“ _Don’t_ tell me what to do, Pretty Boy.”  Ripping his hand back, Roxas finally let out an aggrieved sigh and walked up to the other Blonde.  “So, who the fuck is this _Sleeping Beauty_ , anyway?  Are they the reason you won’t let us into your campsite?”

“As the name would imply, they’re still asleep.”

“But it’s like—”

“Approaching noon?  Yes, we know.”  Hearing the defeat in that deep, accented voice, Roxas’s lips cocked into a bit of a twisted smile. 

“I could offer some assistance if you’re willing to compromise with us.”  Jade eyes narrowed into a critical glare behind thin spectacles.

“In exchange for what?”

“We’re trying to make our way to Hammerhead to nab a few more ingredients for a quest we’re on.  Think you can show us the way if I help solve your lazy problem?”

“If you can wake him, then I see no reason not to.” 

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Roxas exclaimed whilst cracking his knuckles.  Shedding his jacket, he threw it back to Riku—who caught it with a murmured _excuse you_ —and pushed past the Butler. 

Climbing up the steps of the plateau, he strode his way up to the only tent still standing atop the many glowing blue runes carved into the stone.  Their buzzing energy rang in his ears as a gentle hum, fading in and out of focus with each step closer he trekked.   At the entrance, he threw the flaps open and ducked into the cramped space with a glare from Gladio and Prompto. 

Summoning Oblivion into his hand, he sent a shiver of cold up the blade as he barked, “let me handle this.”   Before anyone could protest, he flicked his wrist and dropped a freezing cold burst of _watera_ onto the black-haired male curled up nice and comfortable on the ground.  

The instant it made contact, the man shot up with a shrieked curse.  Drawing a saber out of the Ether, he drove it straight for Roxas’s heart to a chorus of— _No, Noctis, wait_ —only for the Blonde to catch it in his free hand with a fixed smirk.

“Rise and fucking shine, Sleeping Beauty.  We’ve got an Outpost to get to.”

 

 

~0~0~0~

 

 

“So,” Noctis asked, “who…are you again?”  

Roxas couldn’t help thinking this guy wasn’t really _assassination_  material.   When he thought of the people most likely to be assassinated he had met, he thought of Aladdin and the Beast.  Of the many hardships and trials they had gone through to get where they were now, living the dream in their respective castles with their respective families.  _This guy_ —Noctis Lusic whatever-the-fuck—looked and sounded like he went through life with a chip permanently welded to his shoulder.  

Even now, after a long few hours doing hunts for extra _gil_ and backpedaling to grab ore for new paints, he still wore the same dissatisfied scowl he’d been wearing since Roxas kindly brought him back to the world of the living this morning.   His shrouded blue eyes had been glacial all day, piercing his back as Prompto introduced him to his Chocobo—affectionately named Boco—and boring holes through his skull while the lot of them grouped together to take down a pack of hungry sabertusks.   The only thing that had kept Roxas from tearing him apart was Riku going out of his way to drag out wave after wave of imperial soldiers that fell atop them along the way. 

But now—just _miles_ from Hammerhead and that much closer to being free of all the idle chitchat— _now_ , Noctis decided he cared who the fuck he was.   The worst part—Roxas didn’t even have the fucks left in his heart to be _rude_.  “Name’s Roxas.”

“And you guys are on some sort of… _sightseeing_ trip?”

“Yup.”

“Then why are you _here_ , of all places?  This is just a barren desert.”  _You know, I’ve been wondering the same fucking thing, **heart**_.  

 With a sigh, Roxas ran his fingers through his hair and glanced up at Noctis.  “Just kinda ended up here.  Trust me, I was hoping for somewhere a little less… _empty_.”

 “Makes sense, I guess.  Hey, uh…” He paused for a moment before letting out a long sigh of his own, “your magic.  How do you control it so well?” 

 “I just… _do_?”  Cocking an eyebrow, Roxas stalled in their trek to face the Raven.  “Why?  Can’t _you_?”

“I…” Grunting in frustration, Noctis looked askance at some poor shrub or another.  “I try to, but it’s just…I don’t wanna hurt my friends.”  That certainly wiped the scowl off Roxas’s face.  

“I’m sorry, your magic does _what_ now?”

Noctis offered a solemn nod.  “I have to be careful.  My magic is potent, sure, but if any of us are in the spell’s impact, it could kill us, too.”

“That’s… _wow_.”  Shaking his head, Roxas ruffled his hair in frustration.  “Didn’t your teacher ever teach you proper _control_ of it?”  At his heartless snort, the Blonde quickly redacted that train of thought.  “Well, I guess I could give you a couple of pointers…”

“Really?”

“Well, _sure_.  I’m honestly not that great at using it, but I’m sure Riku would _love_ to talk about the specifics with you.”  _Finally, my chance to escape_ —“Hey, Riku!  Noctis has some questions—”

“Imperials overhead!” Ignis called from in front of them, already summoning his elemental blades into his hands.  Behind them, a loud bang sounded from Prompto’s gun.  Covering his ears, Roxas cursed while Oblivion and Oathkeeper appeared with a chuckle through his veins.

“Sorry, Roxas—I’m a little busy!” Riku called over his shoulder as he cleaved through one of the imperial units in a cloud of amethyst miasma.  Dodging a clumsy swing of an axe, the Silveret fell back onto his palms and curled his body into itself for a brief moment before springing back into his opponent with enough force to send them rocketing back into two other enemies. 

“Pay attention, Blondie!” Gladio barked with a violent swing of his greatsword through five adjacent soldiers.

“ _Hey!_ ”  Roxas and Prompto _both_ cried in protest, glaring across the battlefield at each other.   

While Prompto let off a barrage of shots at the forces still floating down from the battle ship, Roxas tore through their forces on the ground like a ballerina down a dance floor.  With every impact, he felt the _oomph_ of life leave another fractured shell.  Unlike all the heartless and nobodies he’d slain there was a substance to these foes that felt _different_.  He could _hear_ their last breaths leave their bodies.  Could _feel_ their energy drain.   Every faint shriek of their downfall sat heavy on his ears, reminding him of so many dark nights waking up in a cold sweat from memories that were so obviously not his.  Made Oblivion and Oathkeeper shake in his grasp, fading in and out with every twirl he made between opponents.

But when a swipe from Oblivion sent the helmet flying off one of his downed foes, Roxas let out an audible gasp of shock.  _They’re people…_ He cringed.   _These things were **people**_.

His fists clenched in the absence of his weapons.  A chill shivered down his spine.  Even if the face that stared back at him was emotionless and ill-defined, it didn’t change the fact _this one_ was never coming back.  

Unlike a nobody like _him_.

“Roxas, is everything alright?” Not daring to look up at the Silveret, Roxas shrugged the frown off his face.

“Yeah,” he lied, “everything is fine.”  Riku’s brows furrowed and the lines of his mouth drew into a frown. 

“I can tell it’s not.”

“Then why did you ask?”  Turning from the corpses that littered the ground, Roxas retreated back to the path to Hammerhead with Riku hot on his tail.   He could _feel_ the lighthearted speech he had escaped in Twilight Town bubbling up in the Silveret’s throat, but he just…he couldn’t.  “Save it, Riku. The sooner we get to Hammerhead, the sooner we can get the rest of the ingredients and leave.  My heart is _aching_ for somewhere else to explore.”

“Okay, but Roxas—”

            “Riku, not _now_.” 

“Roxas—”  Releasing an aggravated sigh, the Blonde dismissed his companion with a brief wave of his hand and stomped his way up to Gladio. 

Without even waiting for his greatsword to dissolve back into the Ether, he asked, “how far away are we?”

“Just a couple meters now.  Why? You and _Pretty Boy_ there having another Lover’s Spat?”

“We are _not_ —”

“Relax, kid—”

“My _name_ is Roxas!” Gladio’s gaze softened with a shake of his head.  He gave a hearty pat to the Keyblader’s back and gestured back to the path.

“Come on, _Roxas_ , I think you need some food to ease that attitude a bit.   Lucky for _you_ , we have the best chef in all of Lucis as our companion.”

“Please tell me it’s not you.”

“Of course not,” he snorted, “Iggy doesn’t let me anywhere near his kitchen.”

“No offense, but I don’t plan on sticking around for anymore _friendly gatherings_.  All I want is some good sleep tonight so we can head off bright and early tomorrow morning.”

“Well, I guess you’re in luck, then.”  Pointing down the way, Roxas nearly jumped for joy upon seeing the large billboard and even larger compound.   Though it wasn’t much to look at after all the grand castles he’d seen in the Organization, _anything_ would’ve looked like an oasis in this desert. “That’s Hammerhead—complete with an RV for travelers like yourselves.”

“Thank _fuck_!”  Looking over his shoulder, Roxas shot Riku a bright smile.  “Hey, slow poke!  Last one to the Outpost sleeps on the roof!”

“Wait, wha—”

Not waiting for a better reply, Roxas took off at his longest stride through the dense shrubbery surrounding the lone spark of civilization. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed! :D 
> 
> Join me in Kingdom Hearts hell on my tumblr, Squiishiichaos.tumblr.com


	5. The Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so, I just wanna give a shout-out to Destiny-Islanders (destiny-islanders.tumblr.com) for inspiring these last three chapters with all her headcanons about KH x FFXV! I've taken a lot of liberties with the ideas she poured out, but this chapter probably shows it the most. 
> 
> So, I hope you all like a little angst and trauma. 
> 
> Here we go!

Pushing through a bush and vaulting over a stone, a laugh managed to burst past his lips with each step closer to Hammerhead Roxas ran.  He almost tripped upon hearing a familiar—if not _welcome_ —laugh by his side.

In the afternoon sun cast through the few trees dotting the area, Riku was a moon painted in shades of silvery white.  Now that his hair had back some of the length it’d lost after their first fight together—their _only_ one, he realized—it bounced on his shoulders and dangled over the emerald gloss of his eyes like moonlight on a lake.  A grin stretched his lips, crooked at the corner by the beginnings of a cockiness that ached of memories from a life that was never his.

He felt that little part of him flare with a connection that returned his look with a confidence built on a childhood of lost challenges.  “You know I’m not gonna lose to you again, right?”

“Funny—I was gonna say the same thing to _you_!”  Kicking off the ground, Riku dashed in a wake of blue light toward the open gates beckoning them closer.   Roxas let out a huff and took off after him in a flash of white.   A part of him was almost tempted to summon his keyblades, but he kept the urge at bay with another laugh.  _This is supposed to be fun_ , he reminded himself, _and Keyblades aren’t for fun._

_Yes, they are!_   Roxas stopped with a gasp.   Looking at the fields surrounding him, he checked every tree and brush for signs of life.  Strained his eyes for any silhouettes besides the four companions slowly racing to catch up to them and the Silveret getting further and further away.

Nothing. 

The Blonde frowned.  _What…was that?  It sounded like…_

“Hey, Roxas!  Come on, winning’s no fun if you don’t put up a fight!”  Brows furrowed and fists clenched, he looked up to Riku and felt his insides twist. 

_No,_ he told himself, _that’s not possible.  Sora is gone._

_But…is he?_

Shaking it off, he jogged up to his cohort and offered a cheeky—if not wavering—grin.  “No power of darkness tricks this time?  I’m proud of you.”

“I could say the same to you!  I saw your keyblades shimmer there for a moment.”  With a roll of his eyes, Roxas bumped Riku aside and walked up to the gate.   For some reason, he stalled and looked back at his companion with a frown.  Immediately, Riku’s smile fell.  “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“Roxas, we both know it’s not—”

“I don’t _know_ what’s wrong.  There’s something _off_ about this world, okay?  It’s just…it’s fucking with my head.” Riku’s frown turned into a worried stare.   Reaching out a hand, Roxas gently pushed it away and shook his head.  “I’m fine.  It’s probably just the heat.”

“Yeah…I guess so.  But Roxas…” He couldn’t look at those tourmaline pools.  There was too much emotion.  Too much life.   It hurt—it hurt _so much_.  “You know you can talk to me, right?”

“As if I have another choice,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes.  He worked hard—harder than before—to keep the smile off his lips.  “It’s either you or the four idiots back there, and I’m still in debate over which is worse.”

“Hey, we can hear you, ya know!” Gladio growled as the stragglers finally caught up to them.   While him and Ignis stood unfazed by their run, Noctis _immediately_ took a seat on the ground with gasping breaths while Prompto doubled over with his hands on his knees panting for air.

“Good!”  Roxas greeted them, using the excuse of cheekiness to finally let his smile forward.  “Just making sure we all know where we stand.”

“How…in the hell…can you still have so much energy…after running _that_ fast…” Prompto panted.   Roxas shrugged. 

“Comes with the territory of saving the—”

“We do a _lot_ of cardio,” Riku saved with a narrowed glare at him.   “I _think_ it’s about time we settled down and got some food, don’t _you_ , Roxas?”

“Yeah, sure, lead the way, _Riku_.”  Managing to hide his rolling eyes, the Silveret took a whole two steps onto the property before a scantily clad woman came waltzing up to them.  She smelled of gasoline and the toils of labor, and signs of her work remained visible in blotches on her skin and stains in her short blonde hair.   Despite her friendly smile, there was a snark in her blue eyes that immediately had their four companions tensing where they stood.

“Well, howdy, ya’ll,” she greeted on a heavy accent, “you finally lookin’ to pay off that huge debt ya’ll owe for the _last_ repairs I done, or ya’ll just here to visit?”

“Oh, _hey_ , Cindy—”

“About that,” Noctis cut Prompto off, “we’re just here to drop off a couple stragglers.”

“Oh, so you ain’t here to make a payment with Papa, after all.  Shoulda known.”  There was a disappoint in her voice that spoke rumors of history between them.   And as _much_ as Roxas _loved_ getting the dirty details about his _not_ cohorts, he really _was_ at the end of his line. 

“Excuse me, Miss?”

“Oh, well, hey there!  You must be one of them there stragglers!  Name’s Cindy!”

“Roxas.  Anyway—”

“It’s nice ta meetcha, Roxas!” The Blonde _felt_ his jaw clench.

“It’s nice to meet you, _too_ , but we only came here to grab a few things before we head on our way.”

“Hogswallop!” Cindy crowed with a wave of her hand, “what kinda outpost would we be if we ain’t at least offered some room and board to a couple wayward stragglers?”  

_The good kind_ , Roxas _wanted_ to say.  He really, _absolutely_ did, but his inventory of fucks was still too small to trade so offhandedly.   

Looking back at Riku for some saving grace, the Silveret left him hanging there with a careless shrug—the _prick_.   “We still have a couple items to mark off our list, and it’d be nice to sleep in an actual _bed_ for a night.”

“A list, ya say?”  _Oh, no, don’t you motherfucking—_ “You boys wouldn’t be lookin’ for work, would ya?”

_No._   “Well,” _no,_ “not _really_ , but,” _no, no, no,_ “we _are_ pretty short on gil at the moment.”

_Mother.  Fucker._ “Well, I’ll be! I have just the thing!”

“Excuse us for a second, will you?”  Grabbing Riku by the arm, Roxas dragged him away before Cindy could answer, and only let him go once they were just outside what _looked_ like a restaurant.    “What the _fuck_ are you doing?”

“It’s _true_!  We _do_ need the—”

“No, Riku. _N_ _o_ , we do _not_!”

“ _You_ were the one who didn’t want to waste time searching this _desert_ for resources!  If you want to buy the rest, we’re going to need income to afford them all!” Roxas glared.

“We wouldn’t _need_ to buy them at _all_ if you’d just learn to keep your _mouth shut_!” Emerald eyes hardened into something a bit more like steel, piercing into him with a cut so deep he felt it skip a beat of his heart.

“And what should we do, instead?  Mope in our sadness until it gets too painful to bear and we fall to darkness again?  Been there.  Done that.”

“That’s not what I—”

“Then, start saying what you mean,” Riku barked, crossing his arms.  “I’m not a fucking mind-reader, Roxas.  If you don’t tell me what’s wrong, I can’t help.”

“Why do you keep thinking _I’m_ the one who needs help?!  I’m _fine_!”

“Yeah,” Riku seethed, “that’s what I said, too--right before I tried to kill the person I love most.”

Roxas was speechless.  For once, he had nothing.  Absolutely _nothing_.

Wiping a hand down his face, the Silveret turned away and rested his other hand on his hip.  Muttering a curse, he continued, “look, if you want to just find a haven somewhere and settle down for the night, we’ll do that, just… _stop_ lying to me.  _Please_.  I’m so _sick_ and _tired_ of everyone telling me they’re fine when I can tell they’re _not_.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”  Riku turned around and gawked at Roxas.  “O _kay_?  Is that it?”

“Yeah,” Roxas returned, “that’s it.”

With a groan, Riku brushed passed him and stalked back over to Cindy.   The Blonde watched from afar while he stood there, both hands on his hips and weight shifted to the side in quiet agitation.  Though he couldn’t see his face, he could tell from the expression written across Cindy’s that Riku was using the voice he _always_ used in rough situations—the blunt, no-questions-asked tone he had employed for the last couple years in between searching every blind corner for any sign of the one they’d lost.   Likely, his words were clipped and his thoughts racing a hundred miles a minute trying to keep him from saying something he would most definitely regret.  Maybe he could even smell the first whiff of darkness creeping up from the depths of their souls.  Roxas wondered if his immunity to the darkness might have faded a bit now that he had been free from it for so long.

_I don’t think that’s how it works._

That voice.  Again.  _It must be something with this world_ , he decided, kicking his foot at the dusty pavement.  _The sooner we can get away from here and back to our own, the better off I’ll be_.

“—Yeah, hey, thanks, Cindy.”  Roxas looked up from his thoughts just as Riku came trotting back over to him.   Even despite all their running around today, the Silveret managed to look no worse for wear.  Besides a thin sheen of sweat from the beaming sun and lingering heat, he had no visible signs of exhaustion.   It reminded him—painfully—of that day on the beach some couple years back.  Of racing the Silveret while trying to escape his own thoughts—still not knowing what the future might hold—and feeling weird in his own shoes.  Whole in a way he couldn’t quite _describe_.

But then after that—“Alright, Roxas, I convinced Cindy to give the mission over to Noctis and them in exchange for a free night on the house.”

—Everything just fell apart.  “Thanks…Hey, Riku?”

“Yeah?”  Roxas looked up the sizable gap between them and offered a deflated frown. 

“I’m sorry.” Leaving Riku confused and uncertain, Roxas turned away from his cohort and walked the short distance to the RV parked in the lot.  Catching the key Riku threw him, he quickly opened the door and climbed into their home for the night. 

Though it smelled a little musty and could definitely do with a deep clean—just like this journey—it would do.  
  
  
~0~0~0~

 

 

Roxas awoke with a startle and a great _crash_.   Oblivion and Oathkeeper were in his hands before he could blink, dragging him to his feet and leading him through condensed darkness like dousing rods sensing danger. 

Heart pounding and breaths shallow, he tip-toed across the rickety old wooden floor with as much care as possible while thoughts raced by with every ginger step. 

_What was that crash?_

_Where’d it come from?_

_Were we attacked_?

Against the white noise of a quiet night, the endless stream was nearly loud enough to silence the pitter patter of rain softly tapping at the cabin’s windows, but wasn’t quite strong enough to block out the _tick-tock_ of the old grandfather clock pasted against the wall.

Looking askance at the old wood, his brows furrowed.  _It’s only three?  But we only went to bed a couple hours ago…what’s going on_?

Roxas kept distance from the loud click of each second ticking by, peeling along the wall like a shadow following a light.  He carefully ducked right around the first corner he came—and stopped.

Light sobbing came from the ajar door of the bathroom, broken and hurt.  It tugged at his heartstrings with a familiarity that sent a rush of ice-cold dread flowing through his veins.  “But that’s…”

Carefully toeing to the door, he cautiously curled his fingers around old, splintered hinges and opened it with an ominous _creak_.  “Sora?” He asked around the knot clamped tight to his throat, “is that you?”

There was a brief pause between one shaky sob and the next, but no answer. 

Confused and unnerved, Roxas gingerly opened the door wide enough to slip through the crack—and immediately halted with a gasp.

In front of him, shards of silvery glass lay in a jagged pool at the Brunet’s feet.   Droplets of burgundy blood fell in time to the ceaseless tick off the hallway clock, dripping onto the glittery ocean and slowly painting it an inky black.  A smattering of cuts—some still boasting evidence of Sora’s fight—decorated shaking white knuckles gripped tight around a familiar ring of keychains.  Within the bulk of his large black jacket, each unsteady breath came and went like a battle in their own right, fighting a war with the strangle of emotion hitched across every sob.

Even as his feet crunched over shards with a sickening _crunch_ , Sora still didn’t turn from the large corked case hanging where a mirror once stood.  Without a reflection to detail him a face so much like his own, Roxas wondered aloud, “Sora, are you okay?  Please, it’s me—Roxas—I’m just here to—”

“ _Roxas_ …” Growled atop a rasp in Sora’s voice, that one word paralyzed him.  That familiar back shook with a watery snicker.  “So, you finally came for me.”

“Sora, I—”

“You _what_ , Roxas?  Got lost in Twilight Town with the rest of your _buddies_?  Or maybe you’ve been busy forgetting all about me with that brand new heart of yours.”

“Sora, I would _never_ —”

“Oh?”  Floorboards creaked as Sora shifted on his feet.  Roxas almost begged him not to turn around.  “You would never _what_ , Roxas?”

“Forget you, Sora—you know that!”

“Do I?  Really?”  A sick imitation of a laugh peeled from his lips.  “Even after _all that time_ you spent trying to keep yourself separate from me while knowing full well you were the piece I needed to be complete?”

“Please, Sora, that was before—”

“Before _what_ , Roxas?  The tense silence broke with another creak atop the rickety floorboards and a harsh jingle.  Scared as he was, Roxas barely managed to catch the ring of familiar chains that came flying toward him from blackened nails crowning crusted fingers.  “Before you took my friends’ memories from me and tried to take my place?  Or did you forget where Oblivion and Oathkeeper came from?”

“Of course not!   But they came to me on their own!  I never meant to take anything from you!”

“But you did, Roxas.”  This time, the creak sang a cacophony of shrieking wails through the tiny room as Sora turned on a heel and finally met his gaze.

Bathed in shadows, he was so _different_ from the Other he watched leave two years ago.  A little taller and a pinch older, he stood lankier than Roxas remembered, lacking most of the hardiness he’d always journeyed with.  His sun-kissed skin was sallow and pale beneath the droop of his normally unkempt hair; his face lacking that signature sunny smile. Where once sat two dazzling sapphires now rested only one milky imitation of the oceans he used to gawk at.  In place of the other sat a glistening golden eye traced by pulsating veins of blackened blood slowly extending their reach with each quaking breath he drew in and exhaled out.

Sora took a step closer and Roxas retreated one back.  “You did this to me, Roxas.”

“Sora—”

“You let me go despite knowing how fragile I was without your heart to make up the difference.   With so much emptiness left inside, how could you not expect the darkness to creep its way in?”

“Sora, I’m sorry…I didn’t—”

“Of _course,_ you didn’t, Roxas!” He screeched, dashing across the distance and wrapping clawed hands tight around his throat.  “You weren’t _there_!  You were _never_ there!”

“S…Sora…” He choked out on a gasp, voice lost to a tight and painful grip.

“It’s your fault I had to leave in the first place,” Sora continued to seethe, “if you had just protected Kairi like we _promised_ , we could finally be together like we always wanted, but _no_!  You couldn’t even do _that_ , right!”

“Please…” Roxas coughed, “Sora…I _tried_ …”

“Trying wasn’t enough, Roxas!”

“You said…you wanted…”

“I wanted a lot of things,” Sora growled, resting his forehead against his with a chill that rippled through every limb faster than a blizzaza, “but none of them were _you_.”

Roxas shot awake with a pained gasp and a raging coughing fit.  A shout of— _Roxas, are you okay?_ —echoed from outside the closed walls of the RV as Riku came gliding up the steps and practically fell into a kneel by his side.

“Roxas, _breathe_.  With me, alright?”  Keeping a steady hand against his back, Riku drew in a long, even breath and coaxed Roxas to do the same.   Then, he encouraged him to let it shakily through his nose while rubbing comforting circles over his back.  

He led them in another breath, and then another; continuing the cycle until the harsh gasps turned to light sniffles and Roxas’s breathing to something resembling normal.

The ache still remained like an emptiness in his chest.  As if Sora had stabbed a dagger into his beating heart and left it as the only anchor keeping him tethered to this mortal plane.  

It hurt.  

It hurt so _fucking much_.

He couldn’t do this, anymore.

“Riku,” he whispered, petrified what might happen if he tried to speak any louder, “I can’t stay here…please…anywhere but here…”

There was no pause.  No questions.

Riku just summoned braveheart and called forth the Gummiship with a single flick of his wrist.  In one swift movement, he lifted Roxas into his arms and effortlessly carried him up onto the ship.  Holding tight, he whispered calm reassurances into his ear while meandering the mess they’d left from their last night aboard the ship. 

No matter what he said or how close he held him, Roxas still _felt_ that glittering gold eye watching him.  Heard those words in the back of his head. 

_You weren’t supposed to exist._

“Please,” Roxas breathed into Riku’s chest, “please…”

“It’s okay,” the Silveret spoke against his hair.  “You’re safe.  I’ve got you.”

And together, he sat them in the same chair Sora once sat, cradled in the warm embrace of a familiar darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> Join me in Kingdom Hearts Hell @SquiishiiChaos on Tumblr!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
